Here's Looking at You, Kid [Zaya/Exar]

It felt like there was a million things to do. The weeks leading up to the tributes' arrival felt leisurely, even boring at times. Now with the twenty four contestants in the building there wasn't enough time for anything. Zaya was running around to ever corner of the training center, trying to keep an eye on how the tributes were doing and overseeing the plans for the arena. There were a trillion little details that needed approval:
uniforms, muttations, where to put fucking rocks. It was nonsense and it was forming an aching headache at the base of her skull.

With as much walking as she had to do lately, Zaya finally did the unthinkable. In the middle of a hallway she reached down and slipped off her red, stoned heels. In only stocking feet, she slipped down the corridor, the fringe from her skirts catching on the heels hooked on her fingers. She paused, trying to untangle the knotted mess that had formed when a screen caught her eye.

She was passing the film room where current tribute could watch footage from past games and try to gather strategy from it. Except it was no ordinary games playing. It was her first games.
Four years ago now, the 74th seemed like a dream not a reality.

And who else was gracing the screen but Torka Hammerfell.

She froze, her eyes fixated on the young man who would forever remain a young man. She was older now, wiser and less naive. She had weathered a games, and the publicity that comes from it. Zaya had made her mistake and learned from it.

You don't care about the individuals, only the Games as a whole.

And yet her mantra was abandoned the moment she saw his face on that screen.

She took a low step forward, welcoming the warm carpet of the film room after the chill tile of the hallway. Zaya stood in the doorway, watching the footage flicker by, the dim room threatening to suck her in further.